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by MrsMoosie



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff without Plot, M/M, No Plot/Plotless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22231936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsMoosie/pseuds/MrsMoosie
Summary: One idea, many different props and potential outcomes.Rated G for now... Might get spicy later we'll see. Each chapter is individual and has nothing to do with the others. They're not friends. They don't even know one another... Never seen each other before in their lives. (The chapters, that is.)
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. I do...?

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hello! See you at the end for an explanation... Sorta... <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Aziraphale gets caught and Crowley has a lovely time with it.

Crowley was sure his face had never portrayed such complete shock. Eyebrows raised to his hairline, glasses nearly falling off his nose. There were no noises leaving his mouth - there were no words or sounds that he could use. Aziraphale stuttered, trying to explain but the damage had been done. Crowley found out, there was no turning back. The panic rose into his throat and words had finally gotten the better of him. All of the words at once, unfortunately.

“AhyouseeI…” He paused, clearing his throat, “Crowley I- I can explain, please if you’d only just listen there’s a very good reason and I want to tell you but it’s just difficult-”

“Oh I… wish you would…” Crowley muttered under his breath, eyes continuing to dart from the Angel’s desk to his face, which had a lovely blush across it. Crowley was suddenly aware of how his face must look. One eyebrow now raised in curiosity, and the smirk on his face just couldn’t be avoided. Aziraphale was flustered, and he was loving every second of it.  _ How many buttons can I press before getting the truth out _ , he wondered.

“It… It came to the wrong place you see it was  _ supposed _ to go to the young woman across the street at the suit shop and it was  _ only _ just today and I was going to stop by and drop it-”

“Angel.” Crowley stopped his ramble.

“Ye- Yes...?”

“You’re lying. You’ve always been a horrible liar, you know?” Crowley let out a short chuckle and picked up the magazine, holding it to his chest facing the Angel. He pointed specifically to the address, “It seems that  _ this  _ issue is addressed to you, Angel.” He smirked his best cat that got the cream smirk. “And this is  _ last  _ month’s issue.”

Aziraphale’s cheeks grew hotter if possible, tears forming in the corners of his eyes in embarrassment. He averted his eyes, one arm coming to hold the other at his elbow, “I just… I got curious.” He said softly, defeated, and deflated.

“ _ Bridal Magazine _ , Angel?” Crowley’s finger pointed to the main story, “ _ Fairy tale Weddings _ ? Why on earth would you be looking at something like that? Getting married and didn’t think to tell me? Going to lose a shoe, run off with a prince and have birds dress you in the mornings, huh? Maybe read them a story or two?”

Crowley’s grin widened and it was just making Aziraphale feel worse. He could have just been sent accommodation from head office for the U.S. President, he looked so pleased. Not that he had anything to do with that, no. That ‘Baby Shark’ song was definitely one of his, however. Makes the kids happy, drives the adults insane. He threw the magazine back on the desk and leaned forward, trying to catch Aziraphale’s eyes for an explanation. Aziraphale kept avoiding him. His eyes clenched shut tighter, hand now rubbing his upper arm to comfort himself.

“Please… leave.” 

“Wha- What?” 

“J-just leave… I want to be alone, Crowley.” Aziraphale repeated, shrinking back. Crowley was caught off guard. He’d  _ never _ been asked to leave. He must have struck a chord he wasn’t aware of. Just because you know someone for 6000 or so years doesn’t mean you know  _ everything  _ about them. Crowley watched Aziraphale’s face and the pain that was resonating. 

“Was it something I said?”

“Obviously!” Aziraphale snapped. He looked up, eyes wet, fists dropping to his sides shaking slightly. “So what if I was looking at- at dresses and tuxes, and- and flowers and venues… Honeymoon spots and… and beautiful tiered cakes with intricate designs cascading down them.” He then added softly, “Having a ceremony in a vineyard, holding hands while the sun sets…”

_ Oh.  _

Crowley paused. He did strike a chord. He strummed the entire harp, alright.  _ Did Angels even have harps?  _ He thought, but decided to file that question for a better time. It’d been a long time since he was an angel.  _ Maybe they started a band or something up there… or an orchestra? Singing the Sound of Music all day- guh. _

“Angel…” Crowley set his sunglasses down before reaching out and taking Aziraphale’s hands, “That all sounds just… lovely. Like something out of one of your books. Like a perfect- like a dream. But why? Doesn’t it seem a little-”

Crowley stopped when Aziraphale took his hands back and picked up the magazine. He flipped it opened it to a page that was dog eared, setting it down and pointing. There were two men, one in black one in white. They were dancing, back arms around each other and the front hand’s fingers twined together. Their foreheads were pressed together, noses brushing. They were smiling. Not laughing at a funny joke smiling, but because they were so in love. There was a beautiful lush garden surrounding them, flowers of all sizes and colors. Off to one side there was a tree with their initials carved into it. It so happened to be an apple tree, spring blossoms covering the branches. Crowley reached down to run a hand over the tree.

“Oh.” Crowley froze and looked up to Aziraphale realizing what he had just done. The absolute embarrassment he had just put him through. The terrible mistake he made. “I didn’t… You really were- it- planning a- um… the our… uh...”

“Wedding.” Aziraphale nodded, “I- I’m sorry it’s stupid I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t get this ridiculous magazine- _ I’m _ so ridiculous.” He grabbed for the magazine to close it but Crowley slammed his hand down on it, causing Aziraphale to jump.

“ _ Never _ . Talk like that again.” Crowley growled, stepping forward. Aziraphale took his hand back, looking up, eyes widening slightly. “You are  _ not _ ridiculous you are brave and… and beautiful and this-  _ this  _ is beautiful and you deserve… Well you deserve...” Crowley’s hands came to Aziraphale’s cheeks and he tilted the Angel’s face up, a warm and apologetic smile adorned his mouth, “You deserve  _ everything _ , Angel.” One hand laced back into blonde hair. Aziraphale’s head tilted into it and he smiled. Crowley always knew how to push his buttons. The right ones, this time. He turned his face into his other palm and kissed it sweetly, “Someday we can have that. I’ll carve our names on the moon if you like it better.” Crowley added.

Aziraphale let out a chuckle and stepped in closer, wrapping his arms around Crowley’s ribs and burying his nose into his neck, “Right among the stars.” He muttered, lips curling into a small smile. Crowley wrapped his arms around his shoulders, petting his hair. A bell sounded at the door causing the two to jump apart, Aziraphale nearly growling.

“We’re closing up- Oh… Oh thank you.” He said to the postman, accepting his mail and following him to the door. He locked it behind him, flipping the sign and pulling down the curtain. 

“Another magazine, Angel?”

“Shut it.”


	2. The Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has some new neighbors he needs to get to know. Well... wants to get to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well let me just crank this out and slap on a chapter 2. :) Has nothing to do with the first, just more PWP nonsense.

After the not-pocolypse, several stores in the Soho area where Aziraphale’s bookshop was located had changed. One was one a suit shop was now a collectible shop filled with comics, much to Aziraphale’s dismay. (“Comics? Reading cartoons? Ridiculous.” He would grumble, as Crowley secretively disposed of the latest issue of… well I’ll leave that to your imagination.) His favorite coffee shop, Chinese restaurant and bakery had remained, thankfully.

One other new shop that was cause for concern to the Angel was a florist. Vines and flowers spilled out onto the sidewalk, different plants hung out under the awning welcoming customers in. A chalkboard sign with whimsical greetings currently read, “Did you hear about the flower that never bloomed? It was a bud omen.” 

The puns were not the worst, the flowers spilling out of the shop he could handle. It was the new owner. The problem being he had never had a chance to meet them, and it was almost as if they didn’t exist. When Aziraphale decided it was time to open his store he would raise his curtain, flip his sign and stare across the way. It would open very early, shadows moving inside proof that someone was there. But by the time he would get across the street there would be only a young man or woman working the counter, telling them the owner had left on deliveries and would be back later that evening. Typically, the owner wouldn’t be back until Aziraphale was getting his own shop closed. How convenient. How rude.

When Crowley finally happened to saunter into the bookshop, Aziraphale was by his desk, staring out the window. He had a paper and pen in hand, watching their every move. He was caught in the moment, taking notes on their every move. Watching. Waiting...

“...Angel?” Crowley asked. The blonde yelped and turned, holding his chest.

“Good  _ lord _ Crowley you nearly discorporated me!” He gasped.

“What the heaven are you doing? Are you-” A knowing twinkle came into the serpent’s eye, “Are you  _ SPYING _ ?” A giant grin melted across his face as he slithered next to Aziraphale and the window. Now this was right up his alley.

“Wha- me? Spy? On what? Like I could- I mean…” Aziraphale stuttered out and turned away, taking his notebook to his desk. He couldn’t help but pause, wrinkling his nose. “Crowley…”

“Hm?”

“Are… are you wearing a new cologne? You’re very… I mean you smell-”

“Ah… no. Nothing new.” Crowley said quickly, watching out the window, “Who are you watching again? Coffee shop? Comic shop?”

“What? No I was-” Aziraphale paused, his suspicions growing, “If you must know, I was looking at the florist. They just showed up a few weeks back and I have yet to meet the owner. He never appears to be in the shop and if you ask me, leaving two...  _ children  _ running the place is highly irresponsible!” He watched Crowley for a reaction and was disappointed. 

“Uh huh…” Crowley muttered, watching the store and their lights go out. “Well they’re closed up. What say we go out for-”

“I need to know!” Aziraphale snapped, “It is inconsiderate to move into a new place and not introduce yourself to your neighbors! He is the one shop I can’t seem to get a hold of!” Aziraphale wasn’t so much angry as annoyed at the lack of etiquette that the store owner showed. He didn’t want to bring him a casserole like the Americans do, but a courteous hello would at least be nice! Unless… Unless he had met the owner. He looked suspiciously at Crowley again. No new cologne, hm? 

“Well you’re not going to meet anyone tonight, looks like they’re gone. Let’s grab dinner, yeah?”

“Fine.” Aziraphale’s mood went from bad to worse as he grabbed his coat off the rack, “But I will be writing him a strongly worded note about his rude behavior.” 

“Fine, let’s just go then?” Crowley rolled his eyes and started to the door, Aziraphale following him. He waited for the Angel to lock up before crossing the street to The Bentley, rounding the front to unlock the doors and slide in. As Aziraphale waited, he looked in the car. Brows furrowed as he looked in the back seat. For someone who was more in love with his car than well… anything, it seemed a bit dirty in the back. And there were a few-

“Crowley…” Aziraphale stepped to the side and opened the back door. Crowley watched him calmly, “What is… What is all  _ THIS _ ?”

Dirt was everywhere. There were pieces of newspaper lining the seats covered in filth. A box with sprinkles of dirt on the bottom took up the seat behind Crowley, and a book. A  _ BOOK _ lay on the floor under some ripped to shreds newspaper. This had to confirm his suspicions. All signs pointed to Crowley. Every grain of dirt.

“Well I was moving-”

“It’s YOU! YOU own the new shop!” Aziraphale pointed at him, “No wonder I can’t get a-”

“Me?!” Crowley bit his lip but couldn’t hold it back, “Angel if I ran a flower shop you’d be the first to know it! I can’t do NICE things for people!” He got into the car and waited for Aziraphale to get in and shut the door, “Running a flower shop means arrangements like ‘Get Well Soon’ and ‘My Sympathies’... I can’t give out sympathy. Have you seen how I take care of my own plants?” 

Aziraphale stared at him. His arms crossed and he frowned, studying Crowley’s face, eyes wandering behind him to said shop. A young woman came out of the front door and locked it. She looked exhausted, dirty, worn out and in need of a break. She turned and noticed the car, tilting her head, smiling and giving a little wave. It was the kind of smile that brightened your day no matter how damp. Bright hazel eyes sparkled through the exhaustion.

Aziraphale smiled and gave a small wave back, the woman walking over to the driver’s window. Crowley raised an eyebrow and turned, rolling the window down.

“You must be Aziraphale!” She started, “Crowley has told me so much about you! I’m Carmen, we just opened here a few weeks back I’m so sorry I haven’t been over to introduce myself!” Carmen bowed her head slightly, curly red and golden hair hiding her face for a moment. 

Aziraphale was at a loss. He looked at Crowley, back to the girl, mouth moving but no words.

“Yes I-”

“Well you SEE Angel,” Crowley interrupted, “I’ve been helping Carmen getting set up, gave her a few plants from my flat to display with some pointers on how to talk to them.”

“P-pointers, right.” Aziraphale felt a right fool.

“I’ve been insanely busy with weddings, funerals, hospitals… so many flowers since that whole craziness happened.” She started. She crouched down next to the door and smiled, “But I hear you are a book fanatic! Well… Obviously, I mean you run… a shop- But I gave that to Crowley for you and obviously it never made it.” She stole a glance to the red head and he gave her a snarky smile right back, “Thought you might like to read it.”

Aziraphale’s mind was spinning. This charming young girl ran a flower shop and he was just saying how rude and… awful a person they were for not  _ introducing  _ themselves. 

“Oh… I’m so- yes, thank you.” He nodded, giving a little wave of his hand toward her as Crowley started the car, “Thank you ever so much! Please come by when you have time we can have some wine. You look like you may need it.”

Carmen smiled and nodded, “I will surely take you up on that offer!” She smiled, “See you tomorrow, Crowley!” She took off down the street, a little extra pep in her step.

“What did you do.” Crowley tilted his head over, reaching back to get the gift from the back. 

“Just a little… ‘Sorry I thought you were a prat’ miracle I think she deserved.” Aziraphale blushed softly. He looked down at the book now in his lap and smiled. It wasn’t a book at all, but a magazine. The smile wore off immediately. “No wonder you haven’t brought this to me.”

“Well… She doesn’t know you...”

“Oprah Magazine? Best books of 2020, really now.” Aziraphale scoffed and threw the magazine in the back seat. “Not likely. Looks like my neighbor needs some education on literature.”

“What? No… No you are NOT starting it again-”

“I’m going to start a book club, Crowley. A GOOD book club.” Aziraphale gave a small wiggle in his seat and smiled, “It’s going to be lovely.”

“It’s going to be boring. I’m not coming.” Crowley grumbled, putting the car in gear and flooring the gas, “Not sober, anyways…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wouldn't want to go to a book club sober either, honestly... Who am I kidding yes I would. :D Carmen is my own little person, we all have them don't we? I'm hoping she pops up again in a future work I have in my brain-mess but for now we'll let her have a cameo.

**Author's Note:**

> Well now that that's done! So this was 1/11 ideas that I had come up along the same lines - Az/Cr catch each other with a specific magazine issue that could go from G to E rating. So if you like that thought and would like... one of my thoughts, you can find me on tumblr @mrsmoosey. I'm fairly new to the game (and late to the game) so my mind continues to ramble with ideas. :) Hope this little PWP blurb was enjoyable!


End file.
